With Ne'er a Fear - If You Would Stay Beside Me
by deepfathom
Summary: Hiccup is overwhelmed by his new responsibilities as Chief and has a short, but very important late-night conversation with Astrid. Then, many years later, they face the next adventure together. (Trigger Warning: blood and character death)
1. With Ne'er a Fear

**With Ne'er a Fear**

The remains of the fires had smoldered to embers, gradually drawing over the Great Hall a cool layer of dimness as soft as the falling snow outside. Hours before, the place was brimming over with the boisterous chaos of a Viking community, laughter and music floating between the pillars like smoke above the happy hum.

All was quiet now. The very last of the dragons and human merrymakers had finally staggered home to bed, leaving the cavernous space in peace.

One individual, however, remained to savor it. The last burning fire-cauldron illuminated the edges of his shape, leaving the rest a silhouette. He sat on an empty table top, one leg drawn up into his circling arms, the other resting on the bench below the table.

Lost in thought and the hypnotizing comfort of flickering flames, he hummed quietly to himself, gaze wandering to the last of a row of painted shields on the far wall. He had viewed it from this vantage point many times before now, carefully soaking in every line, every color of the painting covering the wood.

The painting of a much younger version of himself standing beside his father.

_I'll swim and sail on savage seas,_

_With ne'er a fear of drowning…_

The responsibility of Chief had fallen to him suddenly and heavily several months ago. The seas of life had indeed been savage as of late and he certainly feared he would drown. Accepting his father's passing as well as taking up leadership of an entire tribe was proving to be quite a personal battle. The path was filled with hills and valleys of every kind, all of which made him feel less capable, more prone to slipping. The villagers were supportive, showering him with condolences or compliments and offering advice or encouragement, but these did little to fill the gaping hole in his heart or ease the growing ache. Stoick the Vast had left such a void for him to fill, so many questions unanswered and only the ones he knew and loved to piece together answers.

_And gladly ride the waves of life_

_If you will—_

Approaching footsteps gently pulled him into the present. He knew who it was—it could be no other—but remained still as she walked around the table to sit beside him and lay a hand on his shoulder.

"Hiccup," her voice was little more than a whisper in his ear, "it's very late."

This perch had become a regular haunt for him over the last few weeks, his visits increasing as the coming winter quickly drove everyone indoors. It was a place of comfort and solace, a place to ponder the many weights on his mind, a place to reflect. There was no need for Astrid to ask why she'd yet again discovered him here.

He hesitated, then uttered in hushed tones his foremost concern.

"Astrid, I…I can't do this. I can't be the Chief. I'm not like my dad…"

She put a hand under his chin and turned his face until her eyes, bright and blue, pierced his. No matter how dark, no matter how bleak the days may be, he knew he could always find light in her. The words of the song flashed through his mind agian, making something perfectly clear to him. Something he should have realized months ago…

"You don't have to be," she said. "You _can_ do this. You may not think so, but I know there's a chief inside you somewhere. You just have to find him, coax him into the daylight, believe in him."

He swallowed, closing his eyes which caused a single tear to overflow and slip down his cheek.

"I c-can't…I can't do this alone. I need…I need someone there to keep me afloat through the waves of life, even when they turn savage. I someone to keep me from drowning. Astrid I…I need _you_. I need you to help me find that chief."

Astrid's winning smile appeared beneath tear-moistened cheeks, and she arose to stand before him. Her presence commanded attention, even without armor, axe and her fierce warrior demeanor. However, there was a sweetness about her in this moment, dressed in a simple wool tunic and leggings, her hair loose and glowing in the firelight like a halo. This was the side of her only he had the privilege of seeing up close.

"I'll be here, Hiccup. Always. You have my promise."

"With…with ne'er a fear?"

Astrid offered a light laugh. "Yes, with ne'er a fear. Someone has to keep you in line, after all."

The new chief caught up the contagious smile, felt it raise his spirits and spread its warmth throughout his weary soul. Again he closed his eyes, breathing deeply before beginning to sing. Though no one remained in the Great Hall to witness, his voice was low and soft, making certain that only she would hear.

_I'll swim and sail on savage seas,_

_With ne'er a fear of drowning._

_And gladly ride the waves of life,_

_If you will…if you will marry me._

Her hands slid into his and he felt her lean inward, pulling him closer until their lips brushed.

"Yes, Hiccup," she whispered. "I will."


	2. If You Would Stay Beside Me

**(Trigger Warning: blood, character death)**

**If You Would Stay Beside Me**

The deep, bleeding gash in her side stabbed with every limping step through the mud, the combined sting of dozens of other smaller, less serious wounds doubling the pain. She needed help, she needed treatment and quickly…

There was, however, a need greater and far more urgent than any injury burning through her veins like bright dragonfire. She would not stop. She would not rest until she found him.

Around her, Vikings and dragons lay scattered across the rain-soaked battlefield. Some moaned in agony, feverish words of home and loved ones among their last, clinging gasps. Others remained still, breathless and ashen with their eyes open and vacant, heedless of the stormy, bloodstained world.

Somewhere among this tangle of fallen warriors, he was waiting for her. In the battle's climax with a sore victory in reach of Berk's grasp, she had watched him fly head-on into enemy ranks, sword ablaze and head held high.

A proud, berserk rage had swelled in her at the sight, clouding her mind and sending her screaming into the weakening legions. Almost alive and sentient in her hands, the axe glinted with the cold, hard light of war, shrieking through the air as she hurled it.

At this point, a sudden sea of pain washed through her memories as a sword bit into her unprotected side during a rare moment of distraction. She remembered dropping the axe and splashing into the mud after it, unable to move or breathe. She remembered looking to the storm-blackened sky above, watching it roil and ripple as she prayed for the gods to sweep her away from this ugly reality.

No answer came. There was something more she had to do.

At last, turning over with one hand clutching the wound and the other clawing at the ground, she dragged herself a few inches, a few feet, and soon staggered miraculously upright. One boot before the other, she set out through the despairing wasteland in search of man and dragon, each movement another toll on the crumbling bell of her own life.

After listless ages, she halted.

Against a thick wooden post slumped a human figure, one she would recognize in any condition, even one so desolate as this. Beside him lay a mass of scaly black, one quivering, bat-like wing still stretching for the skies. Whether the dragon ever returned to be one with them again, she would never know.

The figure gave a weak, rattling cough that might have been a word and slid to its knees, huddling beside its wooden crutch.

She stumbled forward, choking on cries of utter agony.

He did not look up as she dropped sobbing and reaching before him. Then he fell into her, his lifeless weight dragging her down with him.

She held him, rocking in the throb of pain and disbelief at the sight of the wicked arrow shaft sprouting from his back. She could not understand this, could not comprehend it. The armor he wore had protected him from many an injury, saved him from a horrible demise before this dart finally found a weakness. There would be no more laughing in the arms of Luck as Death slunk away, tail between legs. That time was now ended.

With the slightest tilt of his head, he looked at her.

"Ast-t-trid…"

"I'm here, Hiccup."

"S…s-stay…"

A brief, peaceful smile played across his face before life and light left his eyes, dulling them to nothing more than hollow pools. His breath dwindled and features slackened in tandem with the dragging rise and fall of his chest…

She did not know how long she clung to him, weeping silently for all that had been lost this day, feeling the cold creep through his body like a fatal mist and sap the strength from her own.

The cutting, remorseless rain ceased to batter the couple and the world smeared about them. No more battle clash, no more dying whispers rising like ghosts from bodies. Bits of memories wandered through her diming mind, bringing with them a new warmth, the welcome presence of familiar smells and sounds, and finally a full scene.

They were in the Great Hall, just the two of them next to a crackling fire. His hands enveloped hers and she spoke to him in comforting, confident tones. Then, in a soft melody meant only for her, he ushered in the rest of their mortal existence. From that moment onward, through scorching sun and freezing cold, they faced the waves. Waves of dancing, waves of dreaming, of laughing, crying, living.

And now she understood. It was to end as it had begun: together. Only Valhalla awaited.

Quietly, though her breath was failing, she began to sing.

_And I would keep you…from all h-harm…_

Her head grew heavy upon her neck, tipping sideways against the wooden post as her eyelids drooped, but the coming sleep of the eternities would never take the loving smile from her lips.

_If…if you…would s-s-stay…beside…_


End file.
